To the Stars
by KissTheApex
Summary: Citlalli yearns for adventure, outside of the Assassin stronghold of Tulum. She longs to utilize her training as a skilled Assassin in the war against the Templars, and to experience the world through her own eyes. The arrival of a bold young pirate, Edward Kenway, sets her off on the adventure of a lifetime. Eventual OC x Edward. M for violence and later chapters.
1. Days & Nights

**NOTES: **There are absolutely going to be some spoilers in this. So apologies for that! I'm a bit rusty with my fic writing, so forgive me! Comments and love are much appreciated. Assassin's Creed and related characters are owned by Ubisoft - Citlalli, however, is a character of my own imagination. Thank you for reading!

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**1716 - Tulum**

Tulum's jungle was a delightful escape for her - for others, its maze-like pathways and vine-filled passages would be sheer hell, but for such an experienced navigator who lived and breathed the thick, humid jungle air, it was sheer paradise. She moved with grace through the tree canopy, her lithe, agile frame almost dancing amongst the thick treetop boughs. She jumped eagerly from branch to branch, pouncing like a jaguar, making almost no noise as the ground passed more than fifty feet beneath her. For her, this was no hellish descent into an inescapable labyrinth of trees and brush; no, the jungle was a place where she could be alone, and be at one with the world.

Even after all of these years at Tulum, which was now the only home she could ever really remember, Citlalli was continually discovering more about the island home of the Assassins each day. Behind each vine, beneath the bough of each tree, there were secrets to be discovered; just a few days prior, she and her close companion had discovered a hidden catacomb on the western end of the island - its massive stone door had yet to be opened. Not for fear, though; but for respect. The Assassins firmly believed that the secrets of this ancient landscape would be divulged in time, and that their mystery was to be treasured and learned from. Ah Tabai, leader of the Caribbean branch of the Assassin order, and Citlalli's adoptive father, continually pushed this philosophy of allowing the land to reveal the secrets. As a descendent of the once powerful Mayan civilization, he was wise and knowledgable about the very wisdom these secrets could hold. He was also a deeply spiritual man, and firmly believed that the place would open its metaphorical doors, with time.

Citlalli had learned much from Ah Tabai, in the fourteen years she had been here. Not only had she learned the skills of an Assassin, and learned to live by the Creed which the Order follows, but she had also learned to trust her instincts, and to trust the world around her. Like Ah Tabai, she was a descendant of a mighty Mesoamerican empire; her own people, the Aztecs, had fallen nearly two hundred years ago. From what Ah Tabai had told her, she was from Mexico City - a place that, in her mother language, was once called Tenochtitlan. The older Assassin had rescued her from Spanish merchants, who had taken her captive after being orphaned in the city. When she arrived in Tulum some fourteen years previously, at nine years old, she knew no words in English, or Spanish - Ah Tabai, thankfully, had known enough Nahuatl to be able to communicate with her. He quickly schooled her in both English and Spanish, and was even knowledgable enough to pass on some wisdom of her own people. Indeed, there were other Aztec members of the Brotherhood that kept the culture alive, and nursed it within her. She had always been a quick learner, and intelligent, and with ease she picked up the various teachings given to her by Ah Tabai as well as the other Assassins. With time, Citlalli became as deadly an Assassin as any, her skills with the hidden blade matching those of the most experienced. It was, however, her ability to remain well hidden and move almost silently through the jungle that gained her admiration amongst the Brotherhood. She was quick, agile, and observant - something Ah Tabai fostered within her in her training.

Despite all this, and the gratefulness she had within her heart for such a life, there was a longing within her soul. It was a void that she longed to fill, a tugging on her heartstrings that told her there was more to the world than _this. _Whereas the other Assassins, some half her experience level, had been sent out on contracts and missions, she consistently remained at Tulum. Perhaps this was the overprotective nature of Ah Tabai, or perhaps it was because he knew about her naivety of the rest of the world - regardless, on the island she remained. The other Assassins returned home with stories of their successes, of their adventures - tales of danger, secrecy, pirates and Templars - things that she longed to see and experience for herself. Oh, how her mind reeled at the thought of putting her knowledge and skills to use!

But, she would have to subside those thoughts. She trusted Ah Tabai, and knew that the Mentor would one day trust in her skills enough to send her out in the world on her own. It was smarter not to push his boundaries - she had learned this as a youngster. Citlalli was a known troublemaker, since she had to find her own adventure here on the island, and she quickly came to realize that Ah Tabai, as wise as he was, had a temper; he was not to be trifled with. He was a stern disciplinarian, and dolled out extra duties to anyone who disobeyed his orders or brought disrespect to the Brotherhood. With this in mind, Citlalli learned to keep her own adventurous thoughts to herself, and not insist upon being sent out on missions with the other Assassins.

For now, she would have to be content with exploring Tulum.

Citlalli had reached the entrance of the grand temple on Tulum - it was a fantastic piece of ancient architecture, a beautiful example of the ingenuity of the Mayan people. She often frequented this place, to speak with her own gods within the sanctity of sacred space - the Mentor had shown her its various chambers and catacombs, and had offered her advice on seeking the wisdom of the gods. Beneath the giant stone effigies of the mystical serpents, which swam in the beautifully carved cathedral Castillo in which she found herself, she rested on her knees. From a small satchel she carried at her side she pulled some flint, some cotton, and a few pieces of copal resin. With great care, Citlalli ignited the cotton and placed it within a small offering bowl Ah Tabai had left within the sprawling temple. Placing the copal incense into the flames, she inhaled the scent deeply, watching as the billows of smoke carried her offering to the gods.

"Shining ones, great gods of my people," She inhaled deeply again, and closed her eyes, "I yearn for adventure. I seek to learn more of the world. My heart aches for the things I know lay beyond the horizon of Tulum. Help me, mighty ones - guide me out of this jungle and into the arms of the world." Citlalli bowed her head, completing her prayer, grabbing a few last small pieces of copal from her satchel and offering them to the flames.

"I wish I could seek as much solace with gods as you do," A voice from the temple entrance distracted Citlalli from her piety. The voice was somewhat raspy, an almost forced masculine vernacular which disguised very distinct feminine tones. She smiled, recognizing the voice, turning around to greet her friend.

"Mary," Citlalli replied, standing from before the offering bowl and walking to the temple entrance. "Sometimes, I wonder if they even listen." A smile crossed her face as she reached out to hug her friend in greeting.

"Indeed." Mary was quick to respond. She had done well, young Mary Read, convincing almost everyone (with the exceptions of Citlalli and Ah Tabai) that she was a young man. Mary masqueraded as James Kidd, an illegitimate bastard son of the infamous pirate William Kidd - and, as both a pirate and Assassin, she was well respected under her alias. Citlalli admired the girl's tenacity to keep up appearances, and to disguise herself so well as a young man; even now, as Mary stood before her, wearing her usual pirate garb, she passed quite well as the opposite sex. Citlalli supposed that most - if not all - of Mary's acquaintances were none the wiser. The girl was, truly, a master of disguise.

Citlalli adjusted her long skirt, brushing the dirt acquired from her adventures in the forest and from the temple floor from the fabric. "What brings you to the Castillo?"

Mary nodded outside of the temple front, down towards the central point of the Assassin village. "Ah Tabai is looking for you," She began, seemingly distracted by the exterior of the temple, "He sent me to fetch you. But look, Citlalli - I have some business to attend to. I can catch you up later, perhaps?"

Citlalli nodded. "Yes, I will be expecting you! Best of luck with your business - I won't keep Ah Tabai waiting any longer."

With that, Mary was off (she was never one to speak too much), headed in opposite direction of the village. The other girl seemed to keep to the shadows as she went, as if the business she had was secretive and hers alone. Citlalli shrugged, presuming that it was nothing of her concern, and gathered her things. Her bare feet made almost no noise as she left the temple, and headed down the great stairs towards the heart of the village.

She arrived quickly, knowing that her foster father was not one to be kept waiting. Indeed, Ah Tabai was anticipating her arrival. He greeted her with a warmness she only ever saw extended towards her.

"I am sorry, Father, I was in the temple," Citlalli apologized, dipping her head in respect for her elder.

A small smile crossed his stern face. "A wise thing, I should think," The Mentor began, turning to look out over the village and towards the island's port. "I expect that change is coming soon, Citlalli. There is something amiss. The Templars are more active than we have seen in the past few years - I think they have discovered something." She observed his features, then, seeing some concern ripple through his eyes - for a moment, it made him look much older than he was.

Her heart leapt - was he finally going to send her out in the world, to see what the Templars were plotting? Had the gods answered her prayers? "What would you have me do, Mentor?"

Ah Tabai turned back to her, a sudden fierceness in his gaze. "I expect you to remain here. And, indeed, to listen to any instructions you are given." Her leaping heart sunk. "I fear for your safety, and for that of the Assassins. We have been lucky that the Templars do not know of our location, but there is little certainty that they will not discover us," He placed a hand on Citlalli's shoulder, his fingers almost hesitant in their grip, "You would be wise to be keen to your surroundings."

Citlalli's eyes looked to the ground, "Yes, Mentor." Heartbreak was inevitable. But why would she expect that Ah Tabai would let her out on her own, now? She knew that he would let her go once he thought she was ready, and as frustrating as that seemed, Citlalli knew that Ah Tabai was more wise than her - he was, after all, a Mentor of the Caribbean Assassins Brotherhood.

A whistle pierced the air then, the shrill call that signalled Ah Tabai's presence was required elsewhere. His stern gaze softened for a moment as he looked at Citlalli, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "We will finish this conversation later. Be safe in the jungle." The whistle call sounded in the air again, this time more urgent. Ah Tabai grunted, nodding at his adopted daughter, rushing off into the brush towards the other end of the village. He seemed more hurried than usual, as if the matter was urgent - and, from what Citlalli could observe, he was right; there was something about to change.

She decided, then and there, that the best course of action would be to follow the Mentor. Her curiosity was piqued - she had to know more about this change, and what exactly was so urgent that he had taken leave of their conversation so quickly. Citlalli removed her satchel and hiked up her skirt, tightening the leather belt around her waist so it stayed firmly in place. Observing the line Ah Tabai had taken through the brush, she left in pursuit, carefully sticking to the shadows of the treelike and being cautious to make no sound.

This would certainly get her in trouble - but, at least, it was a break from normalcy. As far as Citlalli was concerned, she would take whatever sort of adventure she could get.


	2. Overrun

**Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback! It feels great to be writing these characters in this wonderful, exciting period of history. I'm sorry that the backstory is taking a while, but I like to build suspense, and get the ball rolling a bit slowly. No worries though, lots more Edward coming soon! Thanks, again, for all your support :D**

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The haste with which Ah Tabai had disappeared into the bush had piqued her interest. The further he went into the jungle, and the further away he retreated from the Assassin's village, the more curious Citlalli became to his motive. Where was he headed, with such obvious vigor? What had pulled him so quickly from their conversation? Ah Tabai was not one to be easily interrupted, or swayed from his current objective - but, obviously, something had greatly distracted his attention.

Citlalli was more than eager to discover its cause. Her heart pounded in her chest, ringing within her ears, as she pursued the Assassin Mentor through the brush. Her steps remained quiet against the earth, the adrenaline coursing within her veins as she tried to keep a quick - yet silent - pace to match that of Ah Tabai. More than once, in her haste, she caught the soft cotton of her skirt against a passing branch - those things did not matter now, as she felt that this was the adventure she had asked for.

Ah Tabai had been right. Something was about to change.

The Mentor slowed, coming to the entrance of another ancient temple - this, one Citlalli knew hid a great number of secrets. Within its massive stone catacombs lay a mysterious puzzle only the most skilled of Assassins could solve - what had brought the Mentor here? She stowed herself within a low palm thicket, crouching low to remain unseen - and unheard - as she watched the scene before her. Citlalli slowed her breathing, and calmed her rushing heart rate, engaging her body in stealth as she waited for what was to happen.

It wasn't long before Ah Tabai joined - surprisingly enough, Mary, and a tall, rugged man who she did not recognize. He was clothed in a similar manner to other Assassins she had known - perhaps he was one of them? But the closer she listened, and the more she observed, she came to learn that this mysterious man was not what she thought.

His name was Edward Kenway, and he was a pirate - indeed, the coat he wore was of Assassin origin, and had belonged to Duncan Walpole, a man of the Brotherhood. Kenway had killed Walpole, stolen his garb, and infiltrated the Templars; from what Citlalli could gather, his motives weren't swayed towards either side of this damned eternal war. Rather, Kenway was a true pirate - he was in it for the salvage, for the riches. She listened intently, as Ah Tabai questioned Kenway about his encounter with Templars and berated him for murdering Assassins elsewhere in the Caribbean. Quickly, though, the situation changed - he had The Sense, something that only the greatest members of the Assassin Order had. Mary made sure to indicate this to Ah Tabai. It was then that the Mentor brought up the Sage, an individual of great importance to both the Assassins and the Templars - this man, Kenway, said he would recognize him if he saw him. Knowing the man had The Sense seemed to soften Ah Tabai's attitude slightly. Still, though, the Mentor was angered and frustrated.

The conversation ended as abruptly as it started. Ah Tabai stormed off, heading towards the Assassin village, leaving the pirate and Mary behind. Citlalli retreated further into the copse as Mary looked around - it was almost as if she suspected someone to be watching. The girl was more observant than Citlalli had imagined. Then, like a whisper of wind, Mary led the pirate into the temple, taking him deep into its depths, possibly in hopes that he would be gifted enough to understand the Sage's secret. Citlalli was curious, but did not follow, knowing it would be hard for her to remain undetected within the temple, particularly since it harbored many dangers.

Once the pair disappeared, Citlalli reemerged from the thicket. She was, at best, confused - what did this all mean? Who was this pirate, Edward Kenway, and why was he gifted with The Sense? What would the Templars now do, armed with knowledge of the Sage and the Observatory? These were all merely stories to her - legends and tales that she did not know the truth of. Was this the beginning of something new, between the Assassins and the Templars?

And what of this Kenway? He was brash, to be sure; indeed, he was also lacking any knowledge about the Order and what they stood for. He was as much as pirate as she could have ever imagined. There was something about him that she couldn't quite place, too, something that piqued her interest and intrigued her about him. What was his role in all of this?

She knew of Mary's exploits in the world of piracy, and presumed that was how she had come to know the Welshman. He seemed to see her only as a man, so Citlalli also presumed that their relationship was not so close that he knew of her true identity. Perhaps this Kenway would be her ticket out of here - her ticket to freedom, and the openness of the world. Perhaps it was Mary that could show her the way to his world.

Citlalli stole one last look into the mouth of the temple, and noticing that Kenway and Mary were nowhere to be seen, she started to head back towards the village.

She was in no rush to get back - chances were Ah Tabai would notice her absence, and question where she had been after he had left to take care of matters with Kenway. So, she walked with a happy exuberance along the moderately worn dirt path, her mind filled with visions of grandeur; the thoughts of fluttering sails, high seas, and wild adventures completely voided her thoughts of logic, or observance.

Being so entrapped within her own imagination, she didn't see the yellow-coated soldiers sneaking up on her from the jungle. By the time she finally took notice of them, it was too late - one of the men, a brutish, gloating creature, hit her across the head with the butt of his musket, sending her into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, Citlalli tasted the metallic tinge of blood in her mouth. She felt the liquid seeping from a gaping cut on her forehead, where the musket had made contact with her frontal bone. Her vision was blurry, her thoughts a muddy mess - where was she?

For a moment, she struggled, until she realized her hands were bound with rope behind her back. Her feet, too, had been bound; as she tried to resist the lines, the knots only drew tighter, digging into her tanned skin. She grit her teeth in pain, eyes slowly becoming alert enough to take in the situation and observe her surroundings.

She was being held captive outside of the main temple of Tulum, sitting with three Assassins she recognized and two other men she didn't. All six of them were well-bound, being guarded over by three Spanish soldiers with muskets. Two stood watch over their captives, while the others patrolled - all three had bayonets fixed, and flintlocks primed. Her own weapons had been removed from her; one hidden blade, and two small side daggers. She was helpless, and trapped.

The other prisoners seemed worse for wear than she - one of the Assassins was bleeding quite profusely from his nose, his face cut up from what she presumed was the efforts of his resistance. One of the other men - who she did not recognize - was in even worse shape: there was a massive, gory gash across his right shoulder, and his face was contorted in visible pain. She looked from them to the soldiers, a scowl across her features, the blood seeping from the wound in her forehead quickening its flow as her brow furrowed.

"Who do you think you are?!" She spat at them, her voice venom, "You will not make it off this island alive!"

One of the guards walked up to her, and promptly kicked her in the stomach. She felt, with great pain, a few ribs shatter around the force his boot. "Shut your mouth, Assassin scum. One more word, and we'll kill you all. Or, perhaps, you'd like to go greet the lonely men on our ship?" His lips curled, like a dog's in a snarl, at the very thought.

She groaned loudly in pain, now on her side and almost completely immobile. "Father..." she whimpered, hot tears stinging her eyes. Ah Tabai, however, was nowhere nearby to save her.

"What did you say?!" The guard had managed to hear her desperate plea. He drew his musket and aimed it directly at her, "Did you not listen to what I just told you?"

Citlalli groaned again.

The guard's boot made contact with her sternum this time, which thankfully, did not break under the pressure. A loud cry escaped her lips.

"Just fucking shoot her," The other guard said, "She's a liability, making all that noise. Not worth our time."

The guard with the gun directed his bayonet at her, the sharp tip of the blade resting between her eyes. She shut her eyelids tight, preparing for her own death, praying that the gods make it quick and painless. Praying that somehow, she might quickly accept her fate.

But the shot never came. The bayonet no longer scouted the region between her eyes, and the rifle fell to the ground with a thud. Almost afraid to look, she opened her eyes slowly, seeing the guard lying dead in front of her, his eyes staring right past her; the life was gone from them. She heard two more bodies fall around her - the other guards had been quickly dispatched - and with adrenaline momentarily subsiding most of her pain, she struggled to sit up and back up against a stone wall, awaiting the assailant to come and finish her and the other prisoners off.

A white hooded man came to the group of prisoners, one by one undoing their bounding rope and setting them free. He helped the injured individuals off the ground, showing them to safety, before getting to her.

In the stupor of pain, she did not recognize him; but now, as he came to her, and bent down to cut the ropes binding her hands and feet with a sharp dagger, she recognized his face beneath the shadow of the hood.

Edward Kenway.

"Kenway?" She weakly mouthed, blood now on her lips from the rib injuries. Her voice was a hardly-audible whisper.

He paused, for a moment, the brilliant grey-blue of his eyes meeting her amber brown gaze. Edward's stoic look softened briefly, confusion sweeping his face.

For a moment, her heart faltered. It was like he was staring into her soul. In her life, she had never experienced anything like it. Perhaps it was a concussed, injured daze - but that did not matter. Time had slowed. The pain, for a moment, was gone.

"How do you know my name?" One brow raised quizzically, he questioned her.

"Ah Tabai," She weezed, reaching one of her now free hands out to grab his arm. "Temple..."

Before the pirate had a chance to respond, she passed out - the adrenaline subsided, and the pain took over once again, forcing her into unconsciousness once again.


	3. Moments of Truth

**Thank you, again, for all of your wonderful comments and feedback! Its so great to know that people are actually reading this and enjoying it. So thanks, again! If you want to get in contact with me, chat AC, fic writing, or just anything, please shoot me a PM! **

**Sorry that its taken a few days to get this up. I'm busy with school, work, and life, so writing a chapter every day isn't always conducive I'll do my best to keep plugging away, though! Swashbuckling goodness is on its way :D**

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**_One Month Later - Tulum_**

It took nearly an entire month before Citlalli felt herself again. Her ribs still greatly pained her, and the concussion she had sustained after the blow to her head with the butt of a rifle had kept her bedridden for nearly two weeks. She was the furthest thing possible from a good patient, too; the Assassin's doctors found it a challenge, at best, to keep her within the confines of her small hut and to remain cooperative towards their treatment.

She had not been the only one who was injured badly - many other Assassins, and indeed, some of Edward Kenyway's crew that had also been kidnapped, did not fare well in the invasion. Numerous dead had already been buried, and those with injuries were still closely watched by the doctors, and higher ranking Assassins.

The village had grown closer after the attempted takeover - the bond of the Brotherhood was strong. The general consensus, though, was that now they were in danger; Ah Tabai frequently told Citlalli of the fortifications and changes being made to the village during his visits to her bedside. They would have to keep an even cleverer watch over the inlet, now, and ensure that any ships that docked were friendly.

When she was ready and able to leave her hut and get back out within the village, Citlalli sought to examine the improvements herself. It gave her a chance to refresh her spirit, and to get out of the dark confines of being bedridden. Additionally, she was able to see the damage the Templar forces had caused; some of the losses cut close, and made her heart sick with the pain. Many good men - and women - had been lost in the fight.

She wondered if the Templars would be back again. How many more would have to die before they truly went on the offensive? Citlalli was often frustrated by Ah Tabai's insistence on maintaining a low-profile existence, and taking the fight to the Templars in mass numbers. Why did they have to sit by, and idly wait for an attack to come, before taking action themselves? It seemed as if the Mentor was waiting for some sort of inspiration before he truly engaged their enemy - even beyond the typical Assassin methodology of hiding in plain sight, and doing their work silently. Certainly, there were Assassin hives throughout the Caribbean - small strongholds from which small groups of Assassins operated and conducted their business - but they seemed rather quiet, and sedate. Was this, the attack on Tulum, the final straw before Ah Tabai would mount more resistance?

Her frustration was compounded by the many questions she had in regards to the events that day. Why did no one see it coming? Why did no one warn them? And, the biggest one that constantly floated around in her mind: What did Edward Kenway and his crew of misfit pirates have to do with it all?

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The stars danced overhead, a myriad of distant flecks of light, shimmering in a pitch-black night. Great swooping lines of gas and dust which made up the bands of the Milky Way were painted across the obsidian canvas of night, a multitude of stars peeking out from behind the cosmic clouds. The air itself was cool, but not cold - the humidity of the day was gone from it, and now the presence of a gentle sea breeze which livened the boughs of palm trees kept the air from being stagnant. It was silent, save for the whisper of the wind in the trees, and the soft lulling of waves as they broke a few yards offshore, the tide sweeping in on the crystalline white sand beach.

Citlalli lay in the sand, her head resting on a driftwood log. It was quiet. Peaceful. Inhaling the familiar salty air refreshed her mind, and her spirit. She had come out here to escape the matters of the village, the worries within her own mind, and to be by herself and forget about the world for just a moment. There was such beauty in the sea; such peace in the silence of the stars.

Her body was still in some pain from the damage done to her ribcage; even now, splinted with tight cotton around the middle, sharp pangs would radiate along her body. She winced slightly, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees, breathing until the pain subsided and she was able to stand up.

After a month, her mind was thankfully healed. But the questions in her thoughts still remained.

She walked slowly towards the incoming surf, allowing her feet to sink into the wet sand. The crashing of waves was therapeutic, the feeling of the cool water wrapping around her ankles refreshing. As she stood, Citlalli looked down at her mirrored reflection within the damp sand, which now functioned like a looking glass with its glossy, moonlit layer of seawater.

For a moment, she scoffed at herself; there was a substantial long scar forming on her forehead where she had been hit. From the left side of her hairline down to just above her eye the marking marred her face - a once flawless surface of smooth, tanned skin. Her amber eyes were just as fierce as before, but now there was an added intensity to their stare. The reflection dissolved as another wave moved in, replacing it with the neutrality of the sea.

"Citlalli, there you are," A familiar voice came from the down the beach.

She turned to address the greeting. "Ah Tabai," Her voice was soft, only just loud enough to be heard above the tide. "Am I required back at the village?"

"No, no," He replied, moving to sit on the driftwood log she'd been resting against before. For a moment, there was silence. The Mentor had a small smile on his face. "Come sit, my daughter."

It was rare that he called her that. Much of the time, it seemed like their relationship was only Mentor to Student; often, being referred to as daughter meant she was in trouble. But there was something different in his approach; he was, in an uncharacteristic fashion, relaxed.

Citlalli left the cool water and went to sit next to the Mayan. As they sat in silence for many moments, Ah Tabai stared up at the stars.

"Our world is so broad, and yet, so small," He mused, pointing to the shimmering band of the Milky Way, "We seek to understand it, and yet, there is so much more I feel we will never know."

Citlalli smiled. "Why not understand, when we can just explore and appreciate it for what it is?" Her gaze followed the line of Ah Tabai's gesturing.

"In seeking understanding, we seek knowledge," He replied, "Some of us search for it our whole lives. Others only seek to take from the world what they want, never to see or experience the beauty of its function. Exploration is knowledge, but with sacrifice; adventure is experience, but without gains. Neither should be limited by your own understanding, or your ideals. There is no greater outcome to exploration and adventure than knowledge, and appreciation for the order of the world."

The silence continued again. She pondered his words, as he hoped she would, and stirred them over in her mind. What was his meaning? Surely he couldn't have come all the way to this secluded cove to give her advice on living her life.

"Father, I don't understand." Citlalli looked at him with curious eyes.

"Cita, I know you seek adventure," It was seldom he used her pet name to describe her. It could only mean that what he had to say was heartfelt, and sincere. "I know you want more than this place, more than Tulum, and more than the Assassins. I also know you have questions, and I intend to answer them as best I can. But first, you must know - if it is adventure you seek, question your motives for it. What drives you to want to see the world? If it is fame, and glory, and riches, then you are no better than that miserable pirate Kenway. He is thoughtless and belligerent. I will not see my daughter be driven by greed and selfishness."

"My motive is as you said, Father - knowledge, and appreciation for this world. The stories the other Assassins have brought back from their contracts and missions intrigue me; as much as I can remember of this life, I've been here, on this island, and my only experience of the outside world is living vicariously through the stories of others. While I appreciate the home, the training, and the love you have given to me, I know there is so much more to see and know. If it was fortune and fame I sought, perhaps I would have convinced Kenway to take me with him when he rescued me. But I think - "

"Kenway rescued you?" Ah Tabai interjected, his face hardening, the tenseness that was normally present in his voice returning. "You told me it was one of the Assassins!"

"Yes - he killed the three guards who stood watch over myself, the Assassins, and the pirates I was being held captive with," She retorted, "Why are you angry? He saved my life. We are in his debt for saving not only mine, but that of many others."

She had kept the fact that Kenway had rescued her from Ah Tabai, feeling that it would be in his best interest to think she had instead been saved by one of the Brotherhood. After all, had she admitted to knowing who the man was, it would have given away her eavesdropping earlier that fateful day. But there was no lying to Ah Tabai - he was wise, and would find out eventually. One slip of the tongue was all it took to change the dynamic of their conversation. She knew that Kenway was partially responsible for liberating the island; why wasn't Ah Tabai thankful for his intervention?

"Citlalli!" He was frustrated and livid now. "It is his damned ignorance and selfishness that brought the attack upon our village! No matter how many lives he saved that day, yours included, it was due to his idiocy that we nearly fell to our enemies. You saw the man once, Citlalli - don't judge him a hero for those simple actions. Fully understand that he only responded to our need for assistance once he saw his own crew was in trouble; he is a selfish brute of a man, with no conscience towards the consequences of his own actions."

"Then why did he save both his crew and Assassins? He could have left us to die at the hand of Templars. If he was half as vicious and monstrous of a man as you proclaim him to be, surely he would have abandoned all but his own! You have always told me not to come to contempt of others so quickly, so why are you condemning a man based solely upon his occupation?" Citlalli was being bold now - speaking back to her father and Mentor would certainly have consequences later.

Ah Tabai's lips parted as an exasperated sigh escaped them.

"Father, the man made some mistakes - killing Assassins in Havana and elsewhere was one of them. But he did not know of our Order! Has he not redeemed himself by saving the lives of many?" Another leaden slip of her tongue. Citlalli quickly shut her mouth before she said more - now, she truly would be in trouble.

"How do you know about that?" Ah Tabai's eyes narrowed in suspicion as they made contact with hers. Immediately, Citlalli looked to the sand beneath her feet. She would have to tell him, now. There was no taking back the words she had said.

"I...I..." She hesitated, searching for the words. Her eyes darted to the sky, then back to the sand. "I saw you and Mary speaking with him, that very day the invasion occurred - I was outside the temple."

"How much did you hear?" There was little emotion in his voice - either because he was trying to hide his disappointment, his anger, or both.

"All of it," Citlalli responded, shrugging, "About Duncan Walpole. About his meeting with the Templars. About The Sense. I was witness to the entire exchange. I am sorry, Father, that I listened to a conversation that was not intended for me...I truly am. I followed you to the temple, because I had a feeling that what you had told me earlier may have been correct - and it was. Change was coming, and Edward Kenway brought it with him."

"He brought no change other than death and injury to our Brotherhood, and gave knowledge to the Templars of our whereabouts," Ah Tabai retorted angrily, standing up and shouting his case to the heavens.

"But he did not understand! Father, you are passing judgement on a man you do not know! Allow him a chance to learn from his transgressions and change his ways. Perhaps he will make a pirate Assassin, like Mary."

"He is a true pirate, Citlalli; they do not change. We are lucky that Mary came to us before she became even more entangled in their web of treachery and selfishness. She has values that he cannot even comprehend or understand - she knows our Creed, and she follows it. Why are you so insistent on his forgiveness? What did he say to you?"

Citlalli scoffed at his presumption. "He said nothing to me," She shook her head, "And I am insistent because I believe in the ability of our Creed to make men out of scoundrels. I've seen it, time and time again, when washed up wretches of all types make their way to our island to learn and fight for the Creed. He saved my life - I owe it to him to stand in his defense."

"Enough!" Ah Tabai was infuriated, now. "Clearly your head has not yet healed. Speak to me once you have your wits about you." He threw his hands in the air, exasperated, quickly turning heel and heading towards the jungle.

It enraged her, inwardly, that he was so stubborn. Everything she had ever been taught about honor, respect, and judgement was being re-written by the same man who had instructed her in those very principles. Equally, she was also heartbroken - she had disappointed Ah Tabai and let him down more than once in the course of one conversation. How could he ever trust her now? She had been an insolent fool in her spying, and her keeping of secrets - how did she think she would ever get away with such things?

The threat of tears stung at her eyes, as a few droplets caressed the skin of her cheeks. Without a second thought, she left the beach in a dead-paced sprint, heading back to the shelter of her hut to shut herself away from the world for a little bit longer.


	4. Outward

**Two chapters tonight :D Gotta love getting on an absolute writing spree; these characters are coming easy, and the story is writing itself. Already I've deviated from my original plan quite a bit, so we'll see where this all leads. I've also done up a (bad) attempt at drawing Citlalli in her pirate getup, so if anyone needs a visual guide to what she looks like, let me know and I'll send it your way.**

**Cheers! Happy reading :D**

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**One Week Later****_ - Tulum_**

Well over a week passed until Citlalli spoke to Ah Tabai again. He was terribly, terribly upset with his adoptive daughter; and of course, she couldn't blame him. Not only had she participated in her own act of espionage against her Mentor, and parent, but she had also been deceitful and lied. His disappointment with her was astounding, and that, more than his anger, pained her greatly.

She had hoped that eventually, his opinion would sway. She felt a serious debt towards Edward Kenway, not only on her behalf, but on the behalf of Tulum's Assassins. She could forgive his transgressions and the atrocities he had committed against the Order after his liberation of the island - in her eyes, he had been redeemed by his actions. But Citlalli knew that Ah Tabai could not be that easily swayed.

When Mary came to fetch her, she was pleasantly surprised and quite taken back. She had been sitting quietly at her hut, tweaking the release mechanism of her hidden blades to allow for a quicker draw time, when the other woman approached.

"The Mentor has asked to see you," Mary said, leaning against the front corner of Citlalli's hut and watching her finish her work.

"Why? So he can scold me again, and make me feel like a foolish child?" Citlalli's tone carried hints of resentment, which made Mary scowl.

"Admittedly, he is right for being stern with you," Mary replied, shrugging. "But you may find that what he has to say to you now will improve your spirits." It was no surprise that Ah Tabai had told Mary about their argument a week ago. After all, the young pirate was a prized member of the Brotherhood, and one of Ah Tabai's most eager students. In some ways, she had almost become like family. She also provided the ideal conduit for Ah Tabai to understand Citlalli; they were close to the same age, and had always got along well. The commonality of being female didn't help, either.

Citlalli stood up, checking the workmanship on her modified hidden blades. Satisfied, she replaced them upon her arms, pulling the sleeves of her blouse overtop. Ah Tabai had always taught her to be prepared with the blades, at all times. As much as she was upset with his mindset and stubbornness, the things he had taught her still remained within her mind.

"Improve, you say? How so?" She looked inquiringly at Mary, who laughed in response.

"That is not my place. If you want to know, you'd better speak to Ah Tabai yourself." Mary walked towards Citlalli and put a hand on her arm. "Come. I have spoken with him, and I've softened his mind. He's in a good frame." A reassuring smile convinced Citlalli that yes, it was time to go and approach her father.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Ah Tabai was waiting for Mary and Citlalli at the council area, where the highest ranking Assassins of Tulum gathered to meet and discuss the business of the Order. In truth, Citlalli did not expect to be meeting Ah Tabai here - she figured he would want to speak to her in private, and probably exchange apologies for the short-fused conversation. Apparently, however, this was not to be the case; Citlalli knew, right away, that this was a meeting that would facilitate a discussion of her fate.

"Mentor, I am here," She greeted, walking into the circular room inside one of the great ruins of Tulum where the Assassins council was gathered. "What is it you would have me do?"

"At this point, Citlalli, we require you to listen," The Mentor responded to her with a gleam in his eye. "But before we begin, I must apologize."

"You are young - I understand that. You long for more - I understand that too. I am sorry for reacting so strongly to your defense of the man who saved your life. But I hope, too, that you understand my imposition; he has put us all at a great risk, a situation that now needs rectification. The risk factor that is Edward Kenway needs removed."

For a brief moment, Citlalli felt as if her heart stopped. She was forgiven. "I do understand, Mentor," The girl wasn't lying - she did understand Ah Tabai's position. But could killing Kenway really solve their dilemma? She continued, "But must he be killed to satisfy your need for safety and reassurance of our security?"

"Citlalli! Your mouth is ahead of your brain! I have not finished yet." Annoyance crept into his voice as he put his hand to his forehead in frustration. Her tanned skin turned scarlet upon her cheeks - when would she learn to not step out of line?

"As I said, the risk factor of this pirate needs eliminated. But we do not plan on killing him," The other council members nodded in agreement. "We feel that he may still be valuable, with his knowledge on The Sage, and his possession of The Sense. He may have his uses for our order, within the future."

Citlalli found it hard to keep a straight face - they would give the man a chance!

"But, there is a certain...sacrifice that must be made. Myself, with the council's agreement, feel that Kenway cannot be trusted to operate without surveillance. Additionally, we feel that his thirst for the secrets of the Sage and Observatory will assist us in our own quest for that knowledge. It would be too conspicuous to have James Kidd keep a close watch on him; Kenway already knows of his ties to our Order and his loyalty to our cause. I have decided, then, since you not only seek adventure but also seek to defend Kenway's actions, that you will be the one to perform this reconnaissance."

Her spirit soared - Citlalli had finally been given a mission for the Brotherhood. Indeed, one that seemed like it would be filled with the adventure she longed for, as well!

Before she could open her mouth to speak, Ah Tabai continued, "You will join James on his voyage back to Nassau, where he will get you acquainted with Kenway and his crew. You will be introduced as a runaway from Tulum, seeking the adventurous life of a pirate in hopes of riches and glory. You must live this false tale, Citlalli - the future of our Order's security in the West Indies depends on it. Report to us through James, who will work as a third party to transfer what information you find. Does this sound agreeable to you?"

How could she say no? It was the opportunity of her life - adventure, responsibility, and the potential to exercise her highly-trained skills as an Assassin had finally come to light. The Gods had answered her prayers!

It took Citlalli a moment to gather her thoughts. A smile broke through her attempt at composure, and she nodded in agreement. "Yes, Mentor - I eagerly accept this assignment. I will not let the Order down!"

"Excellent," Ah Tabai replied, nodding. "It is done, then. You will leave tonight with Kidd. Gather your things, and meet him at the dock. You sail for Nassau at sundown."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

It did not take long for Citlalli to gather her things. She had been instructed by Ah Tabai to leave most of her Assassin memorabilia behind, save for her hidden blades. It was odd, being without her hooded robe, but she knew that she would adapt to the new clothes she had been given. Mary had brought her a loose-fitting cotton blouse, and a new leather corset to sit on top. Additionally, the other woman had found her a pair of loose sailor's trousers and had provided her with a well-worn pair of boots. It was a change for Citlalli, who had been used to moving around barefoot in a skirt most of her life - however, the newfound fashion was comfortable, and she figured that she would get used to it quickly. She had chosen, though, to retain a few things from her regular life - a pair of turquoise earrings, crafted for her by one of the skilled female Assassins on Tulum, and a golden Aztec sun medallion that she wore around her neck.

Before leaving her hut, she examined herself in a tarnished looking glass. The scar across her face gave her a weathered, almost rugged appearance; in many ways, though, she could still be considered beautiful, with her feminine face, full lips, and amber eyes. Her long, pin-straight black hair was loose - something rare, for her - and hanging idly past her shoulders, the shorter pieces framing her face. Citlalli had also woven three thick dreadlocks into the left side, accented with fine red cotton thread. Around her waist, she'd tied a red sash, storing throwing knives and the pouch for her various hand-crafted darts. To finish her newfound look, the council had presented her with a pair of leather armor for her shoulders, in addition to a fine cutlass and sheath. Coupling that with her hidden blades, in addition to her prized blowgun, she felt that she looked like a fairly convincing pirate.

She met Mary at Tulum's docks, doing as instructed and bringing nothing but what she could carry. Citlalli was convinced that Mary had something to do with her newfound freedom, and she wondered how she could possibly thank the girl for helping put the idea for Citlalli's surveillance mission within Ah Tabai's mind.

"We are waiting for the Mentor," Mary stated when Citlalli arrived, "Are you ready for this?" A grin crossed the pirate's face, her arms crossed over her chest.

"As ready as I could be," Citlalli laughed in response, examining the brig that was to be her home for the almost three days the journey to Nassau would occupy. "I must say, Mary, whatever seed you planted within Ah Tabai's mind...I thank you for it."

Mary raised one hand. "He started that ship sailing, I just blew wind into the sails. He's known for a while how you've been longing to get out of this place. He just needed some convincing."

"Convincing, aye. But he's been so stubborn about it," Citlalli replied, as she watched the deck hands on the brig prepare the ship for departure. "I wondered if he would ever let me leave Tulum, to be honest."

"He's just protective," Mary offered, "You're the closest thing to a child he's ever had. I think it was the fates that intervened when he saved you - I don't believe that man has ever loved anything more, except the Brotherhood. Even then, its a fine line. Its like he has two children - the Order, and you. Sometimes, I think he just confuses the two."

It was an interesting thing, to be sure. Citlalli knew that the Order was important to Ah Tabai, but she also knew that he cared for her deeply. But, just as it was time for the Order to adapt and change, as it had for centuries, it was now time for her to grow and expand her own horizons.

It was then that Ah Tabai approached them, bringing with him a small satchel.

"Your adventure begins, Citlalli. This is not a mission to be taken lightly," He observed, his gaze meeting hers.

"I promise you, I am ready," Citlalli replied, taking the satchel from the Mentor, which she then placed upon her shoulder. "I will make you - and the Order - proud."

Ah Tabai's face softened, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I have faith in you, Citlalli, my daughter." He sighed, and Citlalli thought for a moment she saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes, "But I will miss your presence here, and worry often. Report to Mary as frequently as you can."

She realized, then, the implications of this moment; this was goodbye. There was a chance that she would not return from this, her first mission for the Assassins. The seafaring life was a dangerous one, and pirates were well sought-after by authorities. Previously, the idea of meeting the hangman's noose in the gallows had never crossed her mind - only the prospect of adventure, and of making her adoptive family proud, stayed in her mind. But now, the very real possibility and probability of danger was before her. For a moment, she had a serious sense of self-doubt.

"Father," She walked towards Ah Tabai and wrapped her arms around him, the Mentor returning the gesture in a rare moment of emotion. "I will miss you too. I promise, I will report to Mary whenever I can." Tears filled her eyes. "Thank you."

Ah Tabai pulled away. "Do not thank me, yet. The path ahead of you is dangerous. The seas are a rough, callous place, and there's something to be said about the brotherhood of piracy itself. You have the training, you have the tools - make use of them, and find us the knowledge we need."

One hand on her shoulder, he locked into a deep gaze with Citlalli. "Cita, we need this information. But do not forget too, that you are naive to the outside world. Take care of yourself and mind your surroundings; be aware, and remember: Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted. Do not forget our Creed."

Citlalli nodded, biting her lower lip.

"Mary," Ah Tabai continued, "Take care of my daughter. Ensure Kenway respects her."

"Aye, Mentor. I will." Mary raised a crooked finger to her brow in salute and acknowledgment.

He elevated one hand in a waving gesture, wishing them well. The two women clambered aboard the brig, Mary moving to the stern of the ship, taking up the wheel and barking commands at the crew to make sail.

Citlalli stood on the quarter deck, watching as the anchor was weighed, stowed, and the sails lowered. The wind immediately filled the brig's fabric, sending the eager craft forward and out of Tulum's guarded inlet. The wash from the hull sprayed up onto the gunwales, the sea wind whipping her hair about wildly; in her veins, adrenaline coursed, and as she watched the only home she'd ever known disappearing in the distance, she knew that her adventure was only just beginning.


	5. Nassau - Part I

**Sorry for the length between updates! I've been busy with schoolwork, and a new job, so its been hard to find the time to write. This chapter is a bit short compared to the others, but its part of a longer two-parter; hopefully I'll be able to get that up for you in the next few days. Lots of pirate debauchery, drinking, and bar fighting ahead! Action ahoy!**

**PS: Sorry for my somewhat vile description of sea-sickness in this chapter. I'm going by my own experience, and multiplying it by sixfold; after all, it would take some time to get used to life aboard one of these massive vessels!**

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**_Nassau_**

It was a bloody miracle that she survived almost three days at sea - how did she intend to make a go at living aboard a massive ship?

At first, the thrill of being on the open ocean in such a noble vessel was overwhelming. Once the adrenaline subsided, though, it became a sort of fresh hell. It was all Citlalli could do to keep the contents of her meals down - and often, they refused to stay put. Mary merely laughed at the plight of her friend, as the Assassin bent over the gunwales of the boat, vomiting profusely into the ocean. Citlalli supposed it would take quite a while for her to get her sea legs, and by the end of their voyage, it felt like it was never going to happen.

Needless to say, her excitement upon reaching dry land in Nassau was motivated by sheer relief. There was also a high possibility that her eagerness to get off the brig was also motivated by an almost empty stomach - something that changed quickly upon reaching the dock.

Not only did it constantly feel like she was rocking back and forth (something that was no doubt a contribution of the persistent swaying motion of the ship), but the smell of Nassau was absolutely putrid. The stench didn't truly reach her nose until she stepped off the wooden planks of the dock, taking a moment to steady herself and trying to walk straight (which remained a challenge), and proceeding forward towards the nearest crate she could find to lean on. The overwhelming aroma of sweat, of drunkenness, of excrement, and other things that turned her stomach to think about caused the nausea to rise again within the pit of her gut. Holding her belly with one hand, and her hair with another, Citlalli wretched once more...right into the path of an oncoming pirate.

At least, he looked like a pirate - but her vision was slightly blurry, and to be frank, that was the last thing on her mind. The dark-skin man that walked in front of her was tall - towering much over her - and he was also well-built and muscular. He carried a barrage of flintlock pistols and two cutlasses, and there was an intense gaze that radiated from his features.

He skirted sideways from her projectile vomiting, and as she leaned up to apologize and excuse herself for such rude behavior, his face broke into a grin.

"Can't handle your liquor, miss? You best be slowing down," A hearty laugh erupted from his lips.

She coughed, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt (such improper motions probably wouldn't be excused for a woman anywhere else but Nassau, and frankly, Citlalli didn't care - he wasn't about to put a bullet in her head for impudence). "I'm so sorry," She began apologetically, a grimace on her face, "I truly am. It's not the spirits though, sir - I'm afraid I'm not yet used to life on the sea." Another cough, the colour finally returning to her face as she spoke.

"Ah, a squalor of land I see," He laughed again, "Perhaps liquor would sooth your restless gut, then, miss." Surely not all pirates carried on this manner of conversation?

"Adewale!" The all-familiar voice of James Kidd interrupted the conversation, as the youth joined the sick landlubber and the pirate. "I see you've met my cohort, Citlalli." Kidd patted Citlalli on the pack, more or less in a gesture that said _toughen up, lass_.

The dark-skinned pirate nodded, extending his hand to Kidd in a gesture of greeting. "Aye, I suppose that is the case. What are you doing transporting women, Kidd? Let alone ones who aren't used to the sea." His thick accent was new to Citlalli, and she enjoyed its inflection.

"She's a runaway," Kidd shrugged in her direction, "From Tulum. You know, the Assassin colony your friend Kenway got himself in trouble with a while back. Anyway, I think she's looking to join the burly crew of the latter."

Citlalli was well enough now, and feeling significantly less like she was still floating at sea, in order to carry on a normal conversation. She straightened up, standing, nodding as Kidd spoke. "Aye, that is what I intend to do," she added, keeping her responses short. Her and Mary had discussed, earlier, how they would go about concealing her true purpose; they had to make it appear as if she was as honest a runaway as possible. Being a bit quiet, at first, was part of that plan.

Adewale's hearty laugh rang true again, "You wish to join us aboard the Jackdaw, do you?" One brow raised as he looked at her inquiringly. "Its a hard life, miss, and I'm not sure how the crew would react to a woman being about. But, I am not the one to make these decisions - I'm only the quartermaster. You'd best be talking to Captain Kenway, then."

She noted that the man was the quartermaster; clearly, he would be the sort of person to keep in a good spirit with, if she was even able to join Kenway's crew. It was likely that he would take some convincing - probably from the silver-tongued James Kidd - to get her aboard.

"Where might I find him, then?" Citlalli crossed her arms over her chest. Keeping up an appearance she wasn't used to would not be easy, but she might as well start somewhere.

The quartermaster was slightly taken back - at least the girl was honest. Foolhardy, he supposed - but honest. "He'll be haunting the tavern, soon enough," He gestured in the direction of Nassau's squalor streets, "He's usually up to some sort of debauchery there. But I'd best be getting back to the Jackdaw - we have lots to do before we make sail again." He nodded, before excusing himself to head towards the docks.

Once he was out of earshot, Mary leaned over to Citlalli. "You'd best keep in his good books, Cita."

Citlalli nodded. "Yes. I shall endeavor to do so. Will you show me the tavern, then? I haven't the slightest idea of where to start with this place," She nodded at the direction Adewale had pointed.

Mary laughed, "Aye, I will. Follow me, and stay close." She started walking in the direction of the streets.

Citlalli followed close behind, "Do you ever get used to - "

"The smell?" Mary finished, turning back to look at her as they walked, a devilish grin on her face, "No. You don't. But that's part of life here. Welcome to the pirate republic of Nassau, Citlalli."


	6. Nassau - Part II

**Thank you again for your patience! This chapter is a bit longer than the others, so sorry about that - figured I'd make up for the fact that I haven't had much time to write in the past week or so. But at least Edward has made another appearance, yay! I don't have anything necessarily planned out for the next few chapters (I'd better get on that), so we'll see where it goes from here. Please comment, or send me a message saying hello! I look forward to hearing what you guys think of Citlalli's first adventure with alcohol (I got into the rum myself while writing this chapter...you know, exploratory character development! uwu)**

* * *

**V. Nassau - Part II**

Nassau wasn't somewhere Citlalli would describe as sprawling - even in her limited experience with getting anywhere outside of Tulum, she knew that this certainly was not the standard to which she would hold other cities. It was dirty, it was smelly, and it was filled with pirates - and yet, despite its shortcomings (could those really be described as anything else?), it had a certain character; the way the hatch buildings were put together, the way the streets bent and kinked with no discernible pattern or logic, the way even the beggars seemed at ease in what she presumed was a permanently drunken stupor - it was all what she ascertained to be the heart of Nassau. Freedom. Allowance of choice. Acceptance - so long as you were on-par with the status quo that was piracy.

Mary led her past brothels and shops, both types of merchants on the streets peddling their wares. There were children here too, Citlalli noticed; they skirted up and down the streets, caring not about the grime of the place, carefree in their exuberance and enthusiastic in their games. A smile crossed her lips as she watched a small group of youngsters play in a pile of hay, diving in and out of the loose bale without anxiety or worry. If this was freedom, it seemed like a life she could lead.

They rounded a bend, coming down a sharp inclined slope to the bottom of a flight of rickety wooden stairs. The tavern in Nassau was built as if on stilts, the lower level home to what appeared to be another brothel, and the upper level home to the establishment itself. A raucous sound of drunkards shouting the words to songs played by a resident group of musicians was the soundtrack of the evening, and as she walked up the stairs, she couldn't help but be a bit overwhelmed by the place. There were all sorts here - English, Irish, Spanish and Portuguese, Africans. The myriad of accents she heard overtop of the music was well beyond her recognition.

Citlalli must have looked stunned, because Mary then turned around with a grin on her face, and laughed heartedly at her. "You'll get used to this, I promise," she chortled, leading the young Assassin over to a small table in the corner of the tavern, far enough away from the crowd to keep a safe distance, but still have a well-established viewpoint of the scene.

She was a bit lost for words. This was, indeed, the first experience she could truly remember away from the safehouse of Tulum; this was her first encounter with the outside world, save from those few moments she could recount from her childhood in Mexico City. In that moment, she doubted Mary's statement; there was no way in hell she could ever get used to this. But, Citlalli would have to adapt; if she were to pull of a convincing pirate facade, or at least the facade of someone interesting in adopting such a lifestyle, she'd have to pull up her britches and quickly become acclimatized to the situation.

"A drink?" Mary offered, gesturing towards the tavern's keep behind the bar. Citlalli nodded in response, not sure of what she was supposed to request - the pirate returning with a flagon, filled with a sickly sweet-smelling amber liquid, indicating that she probably didn't have much of a choice, anyway.

Rum. Another thing she'd better get used to quickly.

"Cheers," Citlalli offered, clinking her flagon against Mary's.

"May the Devil's Drink be kind!" Mary replied, raising her drink before proceeding to down much of it in a few gulps.

The first touch of the liquid to Citlalli's lips and tongue was sweet, bursting with rich flavors of sugar and wood. In a split second, though, the sensation turned to a hot burning as the alcohol kicked in, the drink almost searing her throat as she swallowed. Yet, the sweetness still remained beneath the pungent booze, and while she couldn't necessarily say it was an enjoyable experience as it burned its way down her esophagus, it certainly wasn't the worst thing in the world either. It didn't take long, either, to feel the effects of the alcohol on her body - a tingling in her legs, and a heaviness within her head accompanied the drink after the first few gulps.

There was no way she could finish the flagon in one go - Mary's comical gaze only reflected the nature of how naive she was to this whole process - and to do so would be absolutely suicidal. But, Citlalli soldiered on, bringing the beverage to her lips again and downing the rest, coughing slightly as the alcohol burned once more.

As fast as the first had gone down, Mary was back with another. Citlalli drank again, this time, the rum being a bit smoother than the last. "Pace yourself," The pirate warned, "This is a game of endurance." She grinned.

Cita laughed, "I'll be fine," She replied, taking another gulp of rum. The tingling in her legs had spread to her arms now, and she felt as if her body was glowing red. "Where's this Kenway at, eh?" Her speech had started to degrade, and would probably continue to do so with each consecutive intake of rum.

Mary rested her flagon on the table and looked around the tavern - no Captain Kenway in sight. It was growing dark, the sun starting to descend across the ocean; undoubtedly, the closer to nightfall it came, the more likely Kenway was to show up.

"Aye, he's not here - I reckon he'll be around at nightfall though." Mary shrugged, looking off in the distance. "But perhaps I'll go see if I can catch him up before he gets here. Mind if I leave you for a while?"

If it had been a few minutes earlier, Citlalli likely would have said no - but, the rum had given her a bit of newfound courage.

"I'll survive," She answered, "I'm an Assassin, if you recall? I can handle myself."

Mary scoffed, looking at her with a smirk. "I'm sure you will. Don't get too drunk, eh?" She got up to leave, downing the contents of the flagon and adjusting the sash around her waist.

Citlalli just nodded, accompanying that response with a slight shrug of acknowledgement, waving Mary off as she left. With that, the girl was alone, in an unfamiliar place surrounded by complete strangers.

But, in that moment - and she supposed it was the rum talking - she was almost carefree.

It wasn't long before the rest of her rum was finished, and she stood up to head over to the barkeep. The initial rush of blood once she stood was slightly disorienting, causing a slight sway to her movement as she walked, but she was poised enough to mask it to outside eyes - she could, however, feel that the alcohol was starting to have more than a slight effect on her inexperienced body.

No matter, though, she thought. As far as Citlalli was concerned, it would be pertinent for her to start developing a tolerance for the overwhelming liquid now. And with that, she placed a few reals on the bar top and ordered another.

A hand covered hers as the coin was placed down, and a burly introduction and an offer to buy her a drink followed. The pirate that had foiled her plans to buy her own beverage was a nasty looking brute - stocky, short, and rather portly in his appearance. He was heavily tattooed, and had a certain lack of teeth. His hands were rough and calloused, and as quickly as he had placed one of his over hers, she withdrew it.

"You're new 'ere," He drawled, his voice laced with the sound - and smell - of rum.

"Aye," Citlalli replied, accepting the drink that the barman produced. She tried to quickly down some, hoping the outer appearance of some sort of toughness would deter the man.

"An' what brings you to Nassau, eh? Work, perhaps? You ain't from one of them brothels, are ya?" A sickly, grimacing smile crossed his face. She didn't want to imagine what was crossing through his mind.

She retracted slightly. "No, and I find it rude that you would presume so." She firmly pursed her lips.

The man snorted, moving closer as she moved away. He smelt as foul as he looked. "Ah, that's a bloody shame - you bein' so pretty and all. And talkin' like one of them girls from money. Its a real damn shame...I reckon I'd love to see what yer hidin' beneath that tunic."

Her face flushed bright red. Perhaps it was the rum talking, inspiring action within her veins, but she quickly finished her tankard, looking at the man in disgust, spitting venomous words at him as he reached again to touch her side. "Keep your damn hands off me. I sail under the watch of Captain Kenway, and if he heard you were insulting me so, he'd have your filthy head." Liquid courage indeed. Not only had it made her capable of speaking up to such a brute, but it made her spew forth lies, as well.

"Kenway?" He replied with a hearty, toothless laugh. "I didn't know he was keepin' such misery on the Jackdaw! I bet yer one of his favorites - a mighty fine lay, I reckon, if yer as fierce without clothes on as ya are with."

At that point, Citlalli decided that she'd had enough. She picked up the tankard and smashed it firmly on the unsuspecting pirate's head, shattering the vessel atop his thick skull. He groaned loudly, roaring at her in rage, swinging his meaty fists in her direction. One hit, but the other missed, and as she hissed in pain at the swipe to her still-healing ribs, she managed to dodge another blow in her direction.

Slight drunkenness fueling her rage and ambition, Citlalli confronted the reality of her very first bar fight.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

How in the hell had he been convinced to take on what was essentially a babysitting contract?

How in the hell had James Kidd been so damn convincing, that he'd agreed to take a runaway aboard the Jackdaw - a runaway that also happened to be a woman.

Edward Kenway shook his head as he walked the streets of Nassau, cursing the ability of Kidd and his sly silver-tongue (and his sly use of reals) to make him bend so easily to his whims. Not only had he been persuaded - no, bribed - to take a woman aboard his fine ship, but this woman happened to be none other than Ah Tabai's adopted daughter. The Assassin Mentor didn't have Edward in his good books, and frankly, Edward found the man rather abrupt and had more than once referred to him as off-his-rocker mad. Why the hell this girl - Citlalli, he'd been told - had run away from Tulum and wanted to be a pirate was well beyond him, but he supposed he'd do Kidd the favor and take the Assassin on board for a bit.

At first, he'd been fairly angry that Kidd didn't do it himself - but the boy had quickly dismissed the concept, knowing that his own crew wouldn't be to keen to have the woman on board again. So what made the Jackdaw any different? Sailors were superstitious by nature, and the Jackdaw's crew were no exception to that rule.

"And you think my crew won't feel the same?" Edward had retorted, with some degree of frustration.

"Perhaps," Kidd had replied, his odd and slightly distant way of speaking being slightly irritating for once, "But you're Captain Kenway of the Jackdaw. Your crew would follow you to the ends of the earth, Edward. Its your chance to set the example for the rest of us and blaze a new path."

He had only grunted back.

"Consider it a favor, mate. I'll make it up to you in reals. She may be useful, too, in your search for the Observatory."

"Fine, I'll do it." Any assistance he could get with making possibly the biggest treasure find of history would be welcomed. "Where is she, then?"

"The tavern," Kidd answered, "But I'll leave you to it. I have business to attend to here before I return to my own ship."

"More of your Assassin secrecy?" Kenway replied as the other pirate turned to leave. "When will you discover the madness in it all?"

Kidd smirked, "You may see it as madness, Edward, but one day you will understand." And with that, he was gone.

So that was what had led him to this point. He was walking - no, sauntering - towards the tavern, taking his time, and not really looking forward to the task at hand. Who would he be looking for, anyway? It wasn't like he had met this girl before, and there was no chance she would resemble her adoptive father. Perhaps she would be dressed like the other Assassins had been - a hood, distinctive white robes, and a hidden blade strapped to her forearms. He flexed his own right forearm then, the hidden blade that he wore snapping from its sheath and slicing the air. Despite its origins, Edward certainly had appreciation for the weapon.

Perhaps she could teach him how to use it better.

He reached the foot of the tavern, only to hear some sort of chaos happening on the level above. Clearly there was some sort of raucous happening - one of the damn drunks had probably started a fight. A sigh escaped his lips as he bounded up the stairs - not _another_ damn brawl - but he was more than surprised to see the scene of mayhem that had unfolded once he reached the tavern's main floor.

There were moaning, half-conscious bodies here and there, men that had been too drunk to fight properly or had been taken out early nursing their wounds with their tails between their legs. In the middle of it all, though, there was a circle of people, and within its confines he could make out two figures doing the dance of combat. He heard shrieks of "Get the bitch!" or "Knock him out!" from the growing crowd, and as he drew closer, he understood the context - there, in the middle of the gathered bystanders, was a lass not much younger than him, taking on a man easily twice or three times her size. She was bruised, and bloody; she'd taken a few blows to the face, and the blood that flowed from her nose obscuring any sort of recognition of her features. There was a slight limp to the way she moved, and yet, as she danced and dodged the blows the brutish man thew at her, there was a certain grace and elegance to the way she carried herself.

Edward pushed his way into the throng of people who had gathered to watch the spectacle, keen on seeing where this eventually turned up; he wouldn't step in, yet.

The man, a pirate Kenway knew as Riggs, was also clearly hurting. His nose was sideways on his face, and he had a massive goose egg on his brow. One eye was starting to bruise quite badly, the other already red and angry and swollen shut. There was no grace or fluidity to his movement, and he lumbered through the fight like a thousand-pound brick - but he was a force to be reckoned with. He landed a punch in the girl's gut, causing her to gasp as the air was taken from her lungs, blood coming from her mouth as she spat, trying to regain breath. She took the hit quite well, Edward thought, considering she was significantly smaller than Riggs and appearing to be quite drunk.

The girl moved sideways with some wincing to avoid another blow, getting behind Riggs and diving to the floor as he moved at her again, rolling beneath him and tripping him up over top of her. The man fell to the floor with a thud, groaning loudly and rolling over so that his back was no longer exposed. Before he could get up, however, the girl was on top of him, and with a swift motion, a blade was exposed from her wrist and aimed at his throat.

A hidden blade. It had to be her. He knew then that this was the point where he would have to step in.

"Fucking scum, I should kill you right here," She spat, voice laced with anger and crimson red blood. The edge of the blade was pressed firmly into his throat, indenting the skin and causing a small amount of his blood to pool at its tip.

"Spare him, and let his wounds keep him at bay," Edward interrupted, walking forward through the crowd and standing over the two.

Riggs snarled. "Kenway! Control your bitch!" His mouth was missing even more teeth now, and the voice that came from him was gargled.

The girl launched upwards and off Riggs, backing off slightly as Edward approached. There was a drunken swagger to her step, but also indications of serious pain.

"She can do as she pleases, Mr Riggs!" Edward moved himself to be between the girl, and the belligerent pirate, who was now starting to get back up on his feet. He turned to look at her, a fire in his ocean blue eyes, "With me, miss. I think that's enough for tonight."

Another growl from the wounded pirate. "I don't be thinkin' so, Captain. She started it. I'm 'ere to finish it." His hands bounded up into fists as he prepared to throw another punch.

"Mate, where are your manners? Fighting a lady," Kenway replied with sarcasm, bracing himself. The girl moved up next to him, as if more than ready to finish the fight. But she wasn't in much condition to do so, as far as he was concerned.

Riggs launched himself at the both of them, his fists flying in all directions. Edward proposed to stay between him and the girl, but she did not have the same idea - she moved sideways, darting the attack, grabbing one of the bigger man's arms and trying to draw it behind his back. Even in his injured state, though, he was stronger than her - it was almost nothing for Riggs to flick his arm and send her flying backwards into a table. She hit the solid wood with a thud, her now unconscious body breaking and splintering the tabletop into two pieces. Edward grit his teeth - he needed to finish this, and get her to safety.

The bloodied pirate was now a burning ball of fury - there was no logic to his progression, no skill remaining. He had been blinded by the ferocity of the brawl and of the stupidity brought on by drink, and Edward was keen to take quick advantage of it. While it hadn't been his original intent to best the man and put him out of his misery, it seemed like now it was the only option. And so he moved as Riggs came at him again, taking a quick jump sideways before unleashing his hidden blade and embedding it in the man's throat. The crowd was silent now, as Riggs fell to the blade, the horrid sound of the metal removing itself from his thick neck drawing some shock from the gathered audience.

Edward darted from the body then, and over to the broken table, where he was relieved to find the girl alive. Unconscious, yes, but alive - he would need to get her back to the Jackdaw quickly, before any of Riggs' compatriots decided to exact their revenge. Grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped some of the crimson from her nose and her face, for the first time noticing the features that existed beneath the coating of blood.

His eyes widened as recognition swept his mind.

It was her, the girl from Tulum - the one he had set free, the one who had stood up to the guards.

The one who had known his name.

"Kenway, you bastard dog!" A cry of anger snapped him from his reverie. Riggs' men were after him.

He scooped the girl up in his arms, nearly leaping down the tavern's stairs and into the streets, moving as quickly and stealthily towards the Jackdaw as he could.


	7. Morning

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I hope the Edward/Citlalli moments are enough to keep everyone interested. Its exams, not to mention the holidays, and I'm also stacked with work - so time is a bit at a premium right now. But, I absolutely promise, I won't abandon this story. I love it too much to give it up! Keep your feedback and comments coming :)**

* * *

**_Aboard the Jackdaw_**

The crew had not questioned Edward Kenway as he brought the unconscious girl aboard the Jackdaw. Instead, they merely continued their own soiree, gleefully joining in a raucous chorus of various seafaring shanties and passing about the grog. Perhaps, they imagined, the captain had brought some sort of prostitute on board - she would be gone, as far as they were concerned, before the night was done.

Edward was glad for the non-confrontational passage of himself and the Assassin onto the ship. Certainly, he would eventually have to confess his intentions of allowing the girl to sail with them to the crew, and he would have to fabricate some sort of weaving lie as to why she was joining them. He was no elaborate wordsmith, but his crew was loyal, and it was conceivable that James Kidd was right - the Jackdaw's men were more steadfast in their loyalty than others.

He brought the girl into his cabin, setting her down upon the bed before going to turn on a few oil lamps. Edward returned to her side and gently moved the girl so as to pull the linen atop her, after removing her shoulder spaulders, leather corset, and weapons. As far as he was concerned, she would be better off to sleep without being weighed down by armor and armaments, and the cotton blouse she wore beneath them would be much cooler as the temperature rose with the sun.

Satisfied that she was in a comfortable spot, he stood up again, grabbing a bottle of high-potency rum that was almost completely clear in colour, and a small cotton handkerchief from his charts table. Her wounds would need to be cleaned before infection set in. Part of him considered mustering the ship's surgeon to perform the task, but why bother? He felt it due time to award his men with a night of drunkness. There was no point in disturbing them when he, himself, could easily care for the girl.

Indeed, he was also hesitant to let on that she was aboard so soon.

Edward sighed, pouring some rum onto the handkerchief (after taking a rather stiff drink from the bottle himself) and dabbing it against her skin. Thank God she was passed out, he had thought - the sting of the alcohol would certainly be enough to send anyone into agony. There was a slight twitching beneath his touch as her subconscious reacted to the process, but she did not stir. As the blood washed away, staining the once-white piece of cotton a rather sickly crimson-brown, he recalled the afternoon he had first seen her, which now felt like an eternity ago.

He had thought that she was stubborn, and arrogant - standing up to the Templar guards with such gusto was almost a lost cause. And yet, he admired her for it; her tenacity had been unexpected, and such a mindset was a definite plus in his eyes. Of course, she would have been dead if he hadn't come along at the exact right time, but still, there was something to said about the courage and grit she had shown, considering the dire straights of the situation. It was odd for him, now, to consider that the very action of saving her was what had brought her to the Jackdaw - there was no turning back, that was certain.

Though, if Edward was honest, he would have admitted to not being bothered by the prospect.

"Heh," He chortled quietly to himself, dismissing his memories. She was out, and would be for quite some time, but at least she looked more comfortable. A small smile dashed across his lips as he stood, knowing that the best thing to do would be to leave her, and allow time to take its course - she would wake up within the day, more than likely, but he was certain that she would be waking up with one hell of a hangover.

Edward looked forward to greeting her when she did.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The intense light of dawn broke through the ship's aft windows, piercing through the darkness and illuminating the captain's cabin. Beneath the linens she stirred, the bright rays hitting her face, causing her to squint and moan softly in protest as the light interrupted her sleep.

She rolled over, willing the sun to go away so she could nod off again. Even now, as she was slowly creeping back from a drunken sleep into reality, her eyes still firmly shut, there was a pounding behind her skull. Citlalli's body was in a complete stage of revolt of the previous evening's events, none of which she could currently remember. With another groan of frustration, she pulled the sheets up over her head, noticing for the first time that something was _different_.

This wasn't her bed. This wasn't the hammock she had slept in on her journey to Nassau.

It was then she opened her eyes.

Before she could whelp loudly in shock, a strong hand covered her mouth and stifled the noise.

"Shh, you're fine. You are on board the Jackdaw."

Captain Edward Kenway. There was a humor in his ocean blue eyes and a smirk on his lips.

When he was sure that she wouldn't bellow out a loud scream of surprise, he removed his hand from her mouth. Citlalli looked around, taking in the cabin, first looking outside the aft windows to see that they were still docked at a port - still in Nassau, she presumed. The gentle rock of the Jackdaw with the shoreline waves caused her stomach to lurch.

She swallowed and sat up, trying to subside the queasy feeling.

"Am I in your cabin, Edwar - err, Captain Kenway?" Citlalli asked quietly, her voice cracking.

"You are," He began, catching himself quickly, "But nothing happened. I may be a pirate, but I am not that much of a lecherous man." _Of course_, he had thought, _she presumes that I would have taken advantage of her in her drunken state_.

She looked down at her hands, which were now atop of the sheets and in her lap.

"What happened? How did I get here?"

Edward laughed, training his eyes on her with one brow raised, "You, miss, got quite hot and heavy with the rum, and decided to take on a man easily three times your size." The pirate shrugged, then, moving a hand through his shoulder-length blonde hair. "Lets just say without my help, you'd be a either notch on his belt or a dead woman."

Citlalli bit her lip. That was the second time he had saved her - both times, she had acted out of stupidity, and almost paid with her life. How would she ever make that up to him?

Her cheeks flushed a bright red. "I - I'm so sorry to impose! I should not have been so stupid. That's twofold, that I owe you my life. Now, it seems, my dignity as well. How can I ever - "

He stopped her, placing his hand over her mouth again.

"Hush lass," Edward replied. "Its fine. No harm done! James Kidd asked me to have you on board my vessel, and I've obliged. Its not the most orthodox methodology of getting on with a crew, but we'll take it."

She looked up to observe his face, but not meet his gaze. This was the man that she now owed her life to - and doubly so. Despite the fact that he did not see it as a debt to be repaid, her instilled sense of honour knew that she would one day do her best repay her debt. It was hard for her to understand why he was so carefree about it - but, that was the pirate way.

It was then she locked eyes with him. Much like the first time she had encountered Edward Kenway, the intensity of her amber gaze to his blue one was intense, if brief; the moment hardly lasted, and she quickly looked away. He was much more forward than her, placing one of his calloused - and yet, strangely gentle - hands atop hers, which still remained in her lap.

"I will give you some time. Your armor is on my charts table, and you'll find your weapons there, as well. When you are ready, join me up top - you'll find me on the helm."

With that, he didn't say another word. Edward Kenway stood up with a small nod, adjusting his long blue and white tunic, and leaving in the direction of the doors.

Citlalli sat for a moment. Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she went to stand up and head towards the charts table - before she could make it, however, her stomach returned to its angry state. It was all she could do to grab a bucket that had been purposefully set beside the bed before profusely vomiting, the headache that had momentarily subsided returning with full force. She had to stop making a habit of this.

Chances were, she would need to rest a little longer before truly starting the newest chapter of her life. And preferably, there'd be little alcohol involved.


End file.
